


ur a mean one mister burr sir

by protaganope



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Sensory Stim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protaganope/pseuds/protaganope
Summary: hamburr are sat making out on the couch in their house and nothing hurtsit doesn’t get too spicy this is more of a domestic calm,,





	ur a mean one mister burr sir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waitfor_it](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitfor_it/gifts).



> (title from a sentence i wrote in this, not on purpose but similar enough to the grinch i had to make a joke)
> 
> happy easter fellas

Hamilton kisses him fast, eager, dying to express. And Burr is eager too, but his kisses are slower. Punctuated. They both feel deeply, and they have their own ways of making it known.

 

Now, Hamilton’s on him like he doesn’t have a skeleton, melting into Burr’s embrace like he needs it to survive; a being searching for an oasis.

 

They move as one. Complete each other.

 

So while Hamilton leans close, leaves them gasping for breath between each kiss; Burr draws out the experience, pushes them closer, compliments by evoking a great shuddering of the soul as hands roam.

 

Hamilton’s boneless against him and this feels so nice. Calming.

 

They’re lounging about, the TV’s blaring some show Burr recognises as one of Hamilton’s favourite, the blinds still open and the sun casting the room in gold. A cool breeze has invited itself in through the window, and if Hamilton wasn’t panting in his ear Burr would probably hear some bugs chirping faintly. It’s a beautiful evening.

 

He leans back into the couch, a little sticky from sweat, and one of his hands comes up to move Hamilton’s head aside so they can catch their breath.

 

Hamilton huffs impatiently, as was his wont, and Burr laughs quietly. He pouts at that, so Burr splays his hand, lets it go into Hamilton’s hair and massages with the pads of his fingers. The sigh that gains is pleased, like a cat, which makes Burr crack a smile Hamilton doesn’t see until he opens his eyes, no longer distracted. 

 

He scratches a bit more, sees Hamilton lean into his touch and feels his heart double in size.

 

Hamilton screws up his face when he finally stops, hand returning to his side. Whines and somehow gets closer, presses his face into the crook of Burr’s neck and sighs. Takes a deep breath, steals his body heat.

 

There’s nothing for a moment. Then Burr hears a sound. It’s distinct.

 

Hamilton, snoring.

 

Of course. Burr represses a laugh that could wake his partner, and reaches around, carefully, for the remote. Turns the volume down a little then swaps the channel.

 

And if he nods off after a while, who’s to know?

 


End file.
